Forever
by omgg8764
Summary: I just can't escape these characters. Takes place after the epilogue of Stay Strong, and follows the adult lives of Everlark and company. Read Keep Fighting/Stay Strong first. M stuff in future chapters (of course :))
1. Chapter 1

Note: So I just can't get away from this. It's amazing practice for my original work, and I'm definitely learning by writing this stuff. Most stories now-a-days are trilogies right? So why shouldn't mine be? :P As always read and review, take another look at Keep Fighting/Stay Strong.

As I stood in front of 174 Lyle Avenue, I seriously started to wonder what I was doing here. Nothing would come of it, and rehashing painful old memories wasn't something I enjoyed doing. After all, it had been twelve years. I started to doubt that Victoria Clarke was even here. Maybe some old man would answer the door when I knocked, shoo me away, and I could go home without finding any answers, back to my life. Back to what was easy.

This definitely was not easy. Not only had I lied to Katniss about where I was going and why, but I hadn't told her anything about what I had found in the diary or what it could possibly mean. All of it was for nothing. Even if Victoria Clarke answered the door, it wouldn't bring Sydney back. I knew when I stepped out of my door this morning that it couldn't lead to anything, yet here I was. There was no use turning back now. I raised my hand and rapped on the door, my mind flashing back to how I even got here in the first place.

It had started after Gale's wedding. We were cleaning the place up, putting away chairs and tables and boxes of left over decorations. Gale and Grace had gone on their honeymoon, and it was up to the Mellarks and Everdeens to make the spacious expanse of grass in front our houses look like it had before the festivities.

"Last box." I said, lifting up the fairly heavy black case with relative ease. It was the one my son had brought out. The one that held all of the old memories. As I hefted it off of the table, it tilted and something fell out onto the ground.

"Thank god." Katniss said, wiping sweat from her forehead.

She bent down to pick up what looked like a leather bound book. She turned it over in her hands several times, then put it back inside the box I was currently trying to balance.

"What is that?" I asked as she replaced the lid.

"It's a journal." She answered. "Sydney's journal."

"Why do we have it?"

Katniss sighed a little, shifting in place. I knew that I was one of the few people she could talk openly to about her dead best friend, and even twelve years later it was hard for her. For a second I thought about dropping it, but she answered me.

"After her funeral, they let me go to her apartment to pick up her things. There wasn't much. Basically everything she owned was official thirteen property, as she never had any of her own money. It was all Coin's. The only thing she had to her name was this journal, and they told me to take it. Her belongings were supposed to pass to an immediate relative, but Sydney didn't have any."

"What does it say?" I didn't want to push her, but I couldn't help but be curious.

Katniss shrugged. "I don't know. I've never read it. Or opened it. It was too hard. It is too hard."

She smiled at me and clicked the lid in place, then walked away. I headed towards the basement to put the box away, my mind stuck on the journal. It was so hard to get inside Sydney's head. She had always hidden her emotions so well, and the thought of finally getting to see her true thoughts got the best of me.

I set the box down in a corner on the basement floor. Popping the lid open, I saw the journal in its place on the very top. It was clearly expensive, probably a gift from one person or another. A strange symbol was emblazoned on the front. It took me a second, but I eventually recognized it as the logo of the Academy, an elite private school in district thirteen that Sydney had attended.

When I cracked it open, I found the leather worn and bent, clearly from over use. The first page was a dedication of sorts, indicating the journal was a gift for the graduates of the academy to capture their future adventures in. The second page made my stomach twist. Sydney's scrawled handwriting, slightly faded from years in the box, decorated the entire page.

I hesitated. Reading this would be painful, and I wasn't sure I wanted to put myself through that. And what if I didn't like what I found? What if Sydney was someone different from the girl I remembered? The thought of tainting her memory almost made me pack up the box, but I knew that I wouldn't rest until I knew what was hidden in those pages, so I read on.

_I guess this is supposed to be some sort of coping mechanism. They say we'll have a hard time once we get out of the academy, but I honestly can't wait. Maybe people in the real world will actually have more to them than pointless drama and overly inflated egos. _

A gasp escaped my throat. I could hear Sydney saying the words inside my head. The sarcastic lilt to her voice, a roll of the eyes as she thought of the ridiculous notion that she would need help coping. Sydney Harper didn't need help. At least she didn't think she did. It was eerie, like seeing a ghost in my basement. I pushed away the small part of me that was actually afraid and continued to read, soaking in Sydney's words like it would somehow bring her back.

And it did, at least for a little while. For hours I sat on the basement floor, pouring through Sydney's words. She wrote often at first, then once she got assigned to the squad it became less frequent. She talked about me, about Katniss, about finally feeling like she belonged. There was a large gap while she was in captivity, and after that her voice changed.

She became much more self-deprecating. It was clear that Sydney had suffered more from PTSD than any of us realized. Her thoughts were jumbled and dark and unsure, so unlike the Sydney Harper I remembered. It wasn't a bad thing, it just hurt me to know that she was in so much pain and I hadn't done anything. We were supposed to be her friends, but I couldn't remember anyone trying to pry through her hard exterior, except for maybe Gale.

There was a lot about him in the journal. Almost immediately after entering the squad she talked about liking him, then she talked about missing him, and finally about realizing she was in love with him. The most painful parts were when she talked about purposely pushing him away, because I knew what it felt like to be that guy.

It finally got to the part of our lives where Katniss had her accident. Sydney's words were all about her fear for my wife's life, and nothing about having feelings for me, until the entry where we kissed. I felt relieved and awful at the same time. That had been such a strange time for me that I sometimes even forgot about it, as a result of trying to push the memory away for so long.

After she got back to district thirteen, things began to get interesting. The first entry that struck me was one where she talked about her mother.

_I saw one of my mother's old friends today. Not Coin. My actual mother. He seemed to suggest that I look into her death, as he mentioned a lot of things I didn't know. Tomorrow I'll go to the archives. Not that I'll find anything. But how can I let that go?_

The next day she wrote about how she had read in her mother's file that she hadn't died in childbirth, but had gone missing and been presumed diseased. Sydney resolved to find her, and the next few entries of her journal suggested that she was on some sort of trail. It slowed down when she went to prison again. The final entry caught Peeta's attention more than any other. It was the only one that wasn't dated, and it had only three lines.

_Victoria Clarke. _

_174 Lyle Avenue. _

_District Four_

I turned the page eagerly, but it was blank. As was every page after that. The journal entries stopped. They must have left for the mission, and Sydney had never returned to finish what she had started.

My heart fell into my stomach. For some reason, the thought of something Sydney was so invested in going unfinished tore me up. Maybe it was because I knew that if she hadn't died she wouldn't have rested until this was done. Maybe it was because I felt like I owed her something. Maybe it was even that I still missed her, even after all this time.

So I had made the executive decision to do what needed to be done to find whatever Sydney had been looking for. This had to be where she thought her mother was, and I assumed she had never managed to go visit her. So I would do it. For Sydney, and for myself, because I had just read through her thoughts, and I felt like I knew her better now than I ever did, and I was invested in this mystery.

The next day I told Katniss I was going on a business trip to do some stuff for Haymitch. My main job was for the bakery, but sometimes Haymitch had me run political errands for him because he considered me such a people person.

I stopped by his house to ask him to cover for me.

"Is this going to hurt Katniss?" He asked.

"Haymitch, come on. I wouldn't do that. It's just something I can't tell her, ok?"

He peered at me through narrowed eyes, gauging whether he felt like trusting me or not. Then he shrugged and said he would, but made me swear that if this hurt her I would agree to having my ass kicked.

One train ride and a short walk later, and I was standing in front of 174 Lyle Avenue, knocking on the door and wondering what the hell I would find. After a few tense moments, a heard locks turning, and the door opened to reveal a woman with graying hair and a wrinkled face. She stood with great dignity, and I could see Sydney in her sparkling green eyes. Maybe it was hopeful to think that I had come to the right place, but I smiled to myself.

"I'm not interested in whatever you want to sell me. They invented phones for this so I could ignore you people." She said. Her face was cross, and I almost laughed at how Sydney-like her words were.

"I'm not selling anything, ma'am." I let out a nervous laugh. "Are you Victoria Clarke?"

Her face softened a little, and she did a double take to the house behind her, then spun back to face me. "I am. And who are you?"

"My name is Peeta Mellark. This is going to sound crazy, but I need to talk to you about an old friend of mine. She was searching for her mother, but she passed away twelve years ago. I found the remnants of her search in a journal, and your name and this address were the last thing she found out. Her name was Sydney Harper."

Victoria Clarke's face turned pale. The sky above us rumbled, and I felt a raindrop hit my shoulder. It started to rain a little harder, and she sighed, waving me inside.

I stepped through the door after her and followed her down a small hallway and into an expensive looking kitchen. The house was small enough, but small decorations here and there indicated that this woman came from some sort of wealth.

"Would you like some tea?" She asked, pouring water into a kettle.

"Please." The rain had chilled me, and hot tea sounded wonderful. Plus I needed something to calm me down. My nerves were on end, and I wasn't totally sure what I had gotten into. This woman clearly knew something, or she wouldn't have let me in.

The water for the tea was set to boil, and Victoria Clarke turned back around to face me, uncrossing her arms and leaning against the kitchen island. She looked tense, and she was nervously tapping her finger on the counter. I noticed her glance at the clock, but shook it off.

"You were a friend of my daughters?" She asked.

"So you're her mother." I whispered. "I thought you were dead."

"So did Sydney." Victoria was silent for a moment. I didn't want to push her or judge her prematurely, but I couldn't help thinking about Tim and Marley, and wondering how someone could just abandon their children. "I can see the judgment in your eyes, you know." She said.

"I just don't understand."

The tea whistled, and she headed over to pour it into two mugs. Tea bags followed, and she set one down in front of one of the island seats, urging me to sit. When I was settled, grasping the warm mug in my hands, she spoke again.

"You will find, Mr. Mellark, that when you have children, you will do everything you can in their best interest. It may not seem like it at first, but every move you make will be for them."

"I have two kids of my own." I took a sip of tea.

"So you understand." She said. "When I left, I did it because I could see my husband, Sydney's father, for what he really was, a monster. He is the cruelest man I've ever met, and I didn't realize it until it was too late."

"So why would you leave Sydney with him? And Coin? I mean have you met her?"

"I have, and if I had known that was going to happen, I wouldn't have left. I didn't leave Sydney by choice. After I had Sydney, her father had no further use for me. He saw that I had no money or power being married to me was pointless. A good friend intercepted a conversation with between my husband and another man where he planned to have me killed."

I choked on my tea. "Why not just leave you?"

"Because that would've been bad for his image." She let out a fake laugh, but I could see the pain behind the smile. "So naturally I had to leave. The plan was to take Sydney and run away. A friend of a friend would hide us here, in district four."

"So what happened?"

"My husband figured out our plan. I took Sydney from her crib and started to sneak out, but he was waiting in the living room. He told me that if I left right then and took Sydney with me, he would find and kill us both, or rather kill her while I had to watch, then kill me. If I left alone, he would never pursue me, and he promised to never harm my daughter. So you see Mr. Mellark, I did what was best for Sydney, even though it destroyed me."

Taking another sip of tea, I tried to let this sink in. When I came here, I had hated Sydney's mother for leaving her. Now I thought she was a hero. Sydney's family had been so screwed up, but her mother truly loved her, and that much was obvious now.

"I'm sorry I misjudged you. I just didn't think—"

"Anyone would marry someone so awful? Me neither." She took a sip of her own tea. Her hands shook and she glanced at the clock again.

"Mrs. Clarke, if I'm the one who broke the news to you about Sydney's death, I'm so sorry."

"You didn't. I've followed my daughters movements since the day I left. Friends in thirteen who knew I was alive helped with that. Then when she got older and the rebellion began, I could follow the news. I saw the Hunger Games, saw her save that little girls life, and I knew that my daughter had become an amazing woman, despite her upbringing. I've never been prouder, and I know how she sacrificed herself to save Panem. I can't imagine how hard it was for her to kill her own father."

Something stopped me. For a moment I wasn't sure, but the nagging feeling materialized, and I asked, "how did you know that?"

"Know what?"

"That Sydney killed her father. It wasn't mentioned in the mission report that he was even there."

Mrs. Clarke took another nervous sip of tea. Took another glance at the clock. Tapped her fingers. Shifted her weight. She wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Mrs. Clarke, why did you invite me into your house? I'm a stranger. Just because I said I was friends with your daughter? You didn't owe me this. There was no reason for you to let me in, especially if you knew Sydney was dead."

She sighed. "Do you remember how I said that as parents we always do what's best for our children, even if it isn't necessarily what they want?"

A clap of thunder sounded outside, then I heard a key jingle in a lock. Mrs. Clarke's face had gone pale again, and she sipped her tea. The warmth had slipped out of mine, and I turned towards the hallway.

"Mom?" I heard a voice sound from the doorway.

"In here." Mrs. Clarke answered, her voice shaking.

There was no way. I had heard the voice, but it must have been some sort of mistake, or maybe I was just hearing things. It had to be this environment, this house. Because I was with Sydney's mother, I had heard something that wasn't actually there.

"I brought you some groceries." A girl stepped through the hallway door. When she saw me, her smile dropped. A smile I would know anywhere. A voice I would know anywhere. Because Sydney Harper was standing five feet in front of me.


	2. Chapter 2

For about ten seconds we just stared at each other. Sydney was holding two brown bags, her bright green eyes shifting nervously from mine to her mothers. At first I couldn't believe my eyes. I knew I was dreaming or hallucinating. Somehow I had fallen asleep on the train, and if someone pinched me I would just wake up and land in District Four, then turn back around.

"What did I tell you about this?" Sydney turned to her mother, her voice filled with impatience and anger, but it was unmistakably her voice.

"I didn't expect anyone to ever show up." Mrs. Clarke said. "He wanted answers, so I gave them to him."

"Obviously." Sydney walked forward past me and set the brown bags on the counter, then reached up and rubbed her temples. "How did you find me?" She asked without opening her eyes.

"I-your journal." I managed to say, surprised to find my voice.

"My journal? How did you get that?"

"They gave it to Katniss. It was the only thing you ever owned and they needed to give it to someone."

"Then why didn't she ever come here?"

"She never read it." I said, running a hand through my hair. "Holy shit, this isn't happening." I said to myself. "I have to be dreaming."

"Want me to pinch you?" Sydney quipped. When I looked up I saw that she still looked angry, but was now leaning against the counter taking a bite out of an apple.

"What the hell are you doing here, Syd?" I said, feeling my own anger rise to the surface. "For twelve years we morn you, only to find out that you're not even dead? Jesus, if I'd known you hated us that much I would've just told you to fuck off."

"Did you ever think maybe it wasn't about you?" Sydney answered. Even though it had been twelve years, Sydney didn't look older. She had kept her athletic figure,and the sharp lines of her face had always made her look older. She was the same beautiful, dangerous girl I had always known.

"Peeta, leaving you all was the hardest thing I have ever had to do, but I didn't have a choice. When I first talked to Snow, I knew what he was going to ask for. When I agreed, I knew I had to find a way out of it, so I went to Haymitch and asked him what to do. He suggested that I disappear. But I didn't want to do that to you guys. You needed closure, and me running away wouldn't give you that. You were my family, and I didn't want you to hate me because of that. It may have been selfish, but at the time it seemed right."

"So you faked your own death?"

"I figured that I would never be able to see you again anyway, and if Snow thought I was dead and didn't know I had told anyone else about the deal, there was no way he could get free. Getting closure is easier than wondering if you were the reason I left, so I decided to do what I needed to do to protect the people I loved."

"You didn't protect us!" I found myself almost yelling. "You almost destroyed us. Do you know what your 'death' did to Katniss? She thought it was her fault. For months she went through a depression so severe I thought she would never snap out of it. She went through the motions of life, but it wasn't until we had Tim that she actually started to live again. And don't even get me started on Gale. It took him years to get over you. I still don't think he is, but he knew he needed to move on. How could you do this to us?"

"I thought I was helping you." Her voice dropped to a whisper and she put her head in her hands. "I didn't have a choice."

"You always have a choice." I answered. "But I guess now it can all be undone. They'll forgive you eventually. As long as when you come back you—"

"Woah." Sydney held up a hand. "I'm not coming back."

"The hell you're not." I said. "You're going to come back to twelve with me, and we're going to sort this out."

"No, I'm not going anywhere with you." She said. "You should leave." Her voice was sharp. "Now."

"Sydney, you have to come back. Katniss—"

"Is better off without me." She said. "As is everyone else. So do me a favor and go home. Forget you ever saw this. You weren't supposed to come here, Peeta."

"I can't—"

"Just go." She said.

I knew there was nothing left to do. I thanked Victoria for the tea, then started down the hallway. Before I reached the threshold, I turned back to my old friend.

"And just for the record, you're wrong. Everyone is not better off without you. I know that I'm not, and I don't think Katniss and Gale are either. So if you ever decide you want to do the right thing, my door is always open."

With that, I walked out the door. The walk back to the train station was a blur, as was the subsequent trip back to District Twelve. I had planned on leaving the next day, but I was too stunned to stay any longer. To know I was that close to Sydney but couldn't convince her to come back would be too hard, so I decided to head back alone. So I took an overnight ride back home.

The first place I stopped after I picked up my car was Haymitch's. It was early evening, so I knew he would be home. As soon as he answered the door I think he knew what had happened in District Four. But before he could say a word, I stormed inside and turned on him. This man had been my mentor, and I couldn't understand how he lied to me about this.

"You knew." I said without looking up at him. "You knew she was alive and you didn't say anything."

"I warned you not to go there." He answered. "Especially if it would hurt Katniss."

"It's not going to hurt Katniss."

"How do you figure?"

"Because I'm not going to tell her. Sydney was right. She's better off not knowing."

"So you're going to lie to your wife?"

Haymitch was glaring at me, and it made me nervous. Now that I was saying it out loud, it seemed very wrong. But wouldn't it kill Katniss more to know Sydney didn't want to come back?

"I don't want to do this to her Haymitch."

He nodded. "That might be for the best." He walked in and poured himself a drink. It was always good to see he could casually enjoy alcohol now. He poured me one and held out the glass. I took it gratefully, downing it in one gulp.

"So she didn't want to come back?" He asked.

I poured myself another drink. "Nope. She said we would be better off. Typical, self-deprecating Sydney Harper." This time I sipped. "I forgot how much I missed her."

Haymitch laughed. "I've kept the secret this long. Now you see why I had to."

Begrudgingly, I nodded, taking another drink. Haymitch was write, no matter how unwilling I was to admit it. Now that I was in the same position, I understood how he hadn't told us about her for all these years.

"What do I do now?" I asked.

"Now," he clapped me on the back, "you go back to your beautiful wife, your lovely family, and your amazing life here. Sydney wants you to forget about her, so you forget."

"She's kind of hard to forget."

"Trust me, I know."

I set the glass down and thanked him for the drink, then walked back to my house with my head down and my hands in my pockets. When I walked through the door, Katniss was sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine. She stood up and walked over to me, wrapping her arms around me.

"How was your trip?" She asked.

As I looked into her eyes, it killed me to lie, but I knew I had to. Katniss was finally over the tragedies of our past, and we had started a new life. A life that Sydney Harper had no place in, no matter how much I missed her. If she didn't want to come back on her own accord, I wasn't going to force her.

"It was alright."

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

I forced a smile. "Not really. It wasn't what I—what Haymitch expected it to be."

She frowned. "I'm sorry. At least your back now. Come on, I'm about to make dinner."

"Wait," I pulled her back and kissed her hard. It was the most comforting feeling in the world, the most normal and wonderful thing I could experience, and it was exactly what I needed.

When we broke apart, she was smiling. "What was that for?" She asked.

"I'll make dinner tonight." I answered. "Something special."

"Not that I'm complaining, but why?"

_Because I feel like an asshole._ I thought. "Because you're amazing, and you should know that, and you deserve it." I kissed her one last time and headed to the kitchen.

All I wanted to do was forget about it, but that turned out to be harder than I thought it would be. That night I barely slept, tossing and turning next to Katniss. All I could think about was how guilty I felt. I kept seeing Sydney's face in my mind, hearing her say those words. _Better off without me_. I only wished she was right.

The truth was that Sydney made Katniss the best version of herself. She challenged my wife in ways no one else could. Since Sydney's death, Katniss hadn't opened up to any other girl, or tried to make other friends. Sydney had been the only person she had connected with on that level. Grace was nice to talk to, but it wasn't the same. As much as she hated to admit it, Sydneyw as good for Katniss. She would never be better off without her best friend.

It became even harder to forget the next morning. I woke up from a dreamless sleep, exhausted, and resolved to go in late to the bakery. Katniss left for work as I was sipping on some coffee, promising to be home in time for dinner and ushering our kids out before her to drop them off at school.

Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door. When I opened it, I expected it to be Haymitch. Instead, I found Sydney standing there, leaning against the frame, arms crossed and a smirk on her face.

She was wearing shorts and a white tshirt under a black leather jacket. Aviators decorated her face, and her hair was loose and free framing her face.

"If you were going for incognito, you should probably have dressed differently."

"Hello to you too, Peeta." Her smirk spread into a smile. "Can I come in?"

I sighed and moved aside so she could walk through the door. She pulled her sunglasses onto her head, looking around the living room.

"Thought you didn't want to come back." I said.

"I didn't." She answered. "Then something changed." She loosened a backpack from her shoulder and took out a laptop. "So I've been looking into this group for some time. They call themselves the Order. Supposedly they're followers of Capitol policies who believe the rebellion ruined Panem, and they plan to take it back."

"We already know about them. Katniss works for the government. She's mentioned them a few times. Ok…so what does that have to do with twelve?"

"So you know their leader is Snow's son?" She asked, eyebrows raised. I nodded. "Well did you also know there are four senators currently under their control?"

"No. I did not know that." I let out a low whistle. "Who are they?"

"I don't know. But I intercepted this conversation between Snow's son and a higher-level member of this Order thing. They talked about their moles, referred to the government, et cetera. I had to show someone."

"And I was the first person you thought of?" I raised my eyebrows.

"You. And Haymitch. But I'm not even sure he still lives here."

"He does. Next door."

She stood up, and I held out a hand. "Lead the way." I said.

We walked the short distance to Haymitch's, Sydney clutching her laptop to her chest. I knocked on the door and heard footsteps on the other side. When Haymitch appeared in the doorway, he jumped back a little, then a broad smile crossed his face.

"Didn't think I'd ever see you again, kid." He said to Sydney. "You look good."

"Gee, thanks Haymitch." She said, rolling her eyes.

"What brings you to twelve? Peeta told me you had no intention of coming back."

Sydney held up the laptop. "Things changed."

Haymitch frowned at Sydney's serious expression, then welcomed us in. We all sat on his couch and watched Sydney's video. Two men were gathered in an office, and you could barely make out what they were saying, but it was obvious that they were referring to some sort of espionage.

When it was over, Sydney closed the screen and turned to Haymitch. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, his hands clasped, elbows balanced on his knees. You could see his age in his features at times like this, when the stress started to become too much for him. Haymitch had told me a few months ago he was close to retirement, and a scandal like this was not what he needed right now.

"So what do you think?" Sydney asked.

"I think we have a serious problem." Haymitch answered. "These Order people are much more of a threat than I had previously thought. Especially if they have a mole or moles inside the senate."

"What do we do now?" I asked.

"You," he pointed at Sydney and I, "don't do anything. I have to go to thirteen right away and try to sort this out."

He got up and put on some shoes, heading for the door. When he said immediately, he apparently meant at that very second. Sydney stood up and followed him.

"How will we know if you've figured it out?" She asked.

"Phones are a thing. I'll call Peeta."

"Well how will I know?"

"You'll stay here. My house is unoccupied." He said, grabbing his keys.

"Haymitch—"

"You can't go back Sydney. You're the one who found this. If thirteen wants to know exactly how, or if it happens to go to trial, I'm going to need you to come testify. If you disappear again, how am I supposed to be able to find you?"

Sydney crossed her arms. Haymitch just shook his head. "Besides, you won't leave again. If you truly wanted to stay hidden, you never would've come back."

He slammed the door shut behind him and we watched him walk towards his car and peel out, heading downtown. When he was gone, I turned to Sydney, awaiting her response.

"If I'm going to be staying, I'm going to need to buy some more clothes." She said.

I couldn't help but grin. Haymitch was right. No matter how much she denied it, Sydney wanted to come back.

"How are we going to break it to Katniss?" I asked.

"We're not." Sydney flopped down on the couch. "I'm just going to stay inside this house until we hear from Haymitch, then I'm gone. She never has to know I'm here."

I started to argue, but Sydney held up her hand. "Peeta, I need you to respect this, ok? I can't face her. Or Gale. Or anyone else. You're different. I knew from the beginning if anyone would understand or accept it it was you."

"Of course I would. I get that you had to do this. I just wish you would come back already. Snow's dead. There's no reason to hide."

"It's not him I'm hiding from." She twirled a thread from the couch. "Not anymore."


	3. Chapter 3

Peeta's POV

Shopping for women's clothes turned out to be harder than I thought. I usually bought Katniss jewelry or some other trinket as a present, leaving the clothes shopping to her and her mother. But Sydney didn't want to go out in public, so here I was, standing in front of a monstrous wall of jeans, trying to figure out what size was right.

Eventually I just got frustrated and picked out the same size as I would for Katniss, but longer. Grabbing a few shirts on my way to the register, I dodged several helpful looking sales people and stood in line.

"Peeta Mellark?" I heard a whiny voice from behind me.

Even after all this time, Delly Cartwright had never gotten past her high pitched adolescent whine. I turned around and flashed a smile at her as she went to get in line behind me.

"What are you doing here? Buying presents for your wife? How sweet of you!" She threw her hand forward and laughing, flashing the enormous diamond ring she had received from her politician husband.

"Uhh—" _Well at least she had given me a cover story_, I thought. "Yeah, I am. Just a little surprise. She works really hard, you know?"

"I love those pants. So simple yet so stylish. You really have great taste."

"Thank you?" I said. As soon as Delly went to open her mouth again, the cashier asked for next in line, which was, thank god, me.

As I was checking out, I hoped that Delly wouldn't see Katniss. They didn't interact much, but I had basically just lied through my teeth to her, and if she mentioned this recent meeting, it would cause major problems. After I thanked the cashier, I went to the grocery store and loaded up on some food. I knew for a fact that Haymitch had next to nothing to eat in his house, and Sydney would certainly be starving.

I didn't bother knocking on the door when I got to his house. Sydney was lounging on the couch, reading one of Haymitch's books.

"Who would've thought he was an intellectual?" She waved the large, leather bound book at me.

"A gentleman and a scholar." I said, setting the bags down on the counter.

Sydney got up and made her way over, peering into the bags. "Peeta, these clothes are kind of expensive. I don't really have a way to pay you back."

"Don't worry about it." I held up a hand. "You're my family, you need help, and you've saved my life more times than I can remember. I think clothes and food are the least I can do for you."

She smiled and took an apple out of one of the bags, biting into it and leaning against the table.

"What now?"

"Now, I have to go to the Everdeens. They usually have a family dinner thing on Mondays. Helps you get through the first work day you know?" Sydney nodded, glancing out the window and across the street. "You could come if you want. It would be like a coming out party. Everyone is there. Katniss, the kids, Prim, Gale."

Sydney rolled her eyes again. "Gale probably comes…with his wife." She emphasized the last word. "Besides, I bet they didn't set a seat at the table for me and I don't want to inconvenience them."

I laughed and shook my head, then headed for the door. "You know, I didn't realize just how much I missed you."

"How could you not?" She smiled. When I walked through the door, she yelled after me, "And I missed you too!"

The door to the Everdeen's was open when I tried to knock. When I headed in, I found that I was the last person there. Time had escaped me while I was shopping for Sydney, and everyone was already standing around talking when I walked in.

Katniss walked over to me and I hugged her close, kissing the top of her head. My daughter ran over and I scooped her up into my arms.

"Where were you dad?"

I thought for a second, then decided to establish the story before it got any later. "I was helping Haymitch's new house-sitter settle in." I said, turning to Katniss.

"House sitter? Since when has Haymitch cared what his house looks like?"

I shrugged. "He says he's going to be gone for a long time. And this woman asked him for a job, so he gave it to her. You know Haymitch, always a champion of the weirdos."

"So she's strange?"

I laughed. "You could say that. Just a little odd I think. He asked me to look after her and make sure she was ok until she gets settled." I turned to Mrs. Everdeen. "What's for dinner?" I asked, quick to change the subject. The party moved on, everyone forgetting about Haymitch's nanny.

When I saw Gale, my stomach clenched. I wondered what he would do if he knew the love of his life was fifty yards away. I caught him as he was heading into the dining room, clapping him on the back.

"How was the honeymoon?" I asked. It had been relatively short, as both Gale and Grace had to work. They had gone to a cabin in the woods outside of twelve and stayed for three nights.

"Amazing man. Married life is working out so far."

Grace glanced back at him, and he smiled at her. For a second I pictured what it would have been like if that was Sydney standing next to Katniss, helping serve dinner with the rest of our family. Is this what our life would have been like if she had lived? If she had never run away, would everything have turned out like this? I laughed at that thought. They wouldn't be, because this life was normal, simple, some would say boring. And Sydney Harper was anything but boring.

Living like this was what I wanted, and what Katniss wanted, but Sydney was different. She wanted adventure and danger and thrills and action. Looking at Gale now, I wondered when that had changed for him. It was the reason that I always thought he and Sydney worked so well together. They had that same restless ambition that made them go out and live life together. Grace had made him settle down, and I wondered if that was ever really what he wanted.

For the next few days, we lived like this. Katniss would leave for work early, I would check on Sydney, send the kids to school, then work at the bakery. At night I would try to make a trip over there and see if she needed anything. Despite her polite thank yous and smiles, I knew Sydney wasn't happy.

On the fifth day of her residence in twelve, she finally broke. I was at home with Tim, who was suffering from a bad bout of flu, when Sydney burst through my front door.

"I can't take this anymore." She said, pacing wildly around the living room. "I'm going stir crazy, Peeta. I've read every book in his house. Television is boring at hell, and you can only browse the internet for so long. I need to work out, run, fight someone, do something. I will literally go insane if I'm by myself any longer."

"Well what do you want to do?"

Sydney shrugged. "I don't know! Something! Being alone twenty four hours a day just sucks."

"I'll try to visit more, but Katniss is starting to wonder."

"I don't understand—"

"Dad?" I heard a voice from the top of the steps. Sydney gave me a panicked look, but I knew it was too late. He was on his way downstairs, and before she could leave, he was within reach, frozen on the third step from the bottom, his hand still scratching his dark brown hair.

He was a gangly kid, built much more like Katniss' side of the family than mine. He had gotten my blue eyes, which made him look much older than he did contrasting with his dark locks. It didn't hurt that when he looked at you it was like he was looking through you, like he could see straight through you. Even though he was entering his rebellious stage, Tim was more mature than any twelve year old I'd ever met. So when he saw us, his mind jumped to conclusions, and suspicion entered his features.

"Who are you?" He asked Sydney.

I could see her bite the inside of her cheek and give me a look. "This is Haymitch's house keeper."

"You said she couldn't speak English very well." Tim said. "She was speaking it fine."

I tried to think of something else to say, when Tim's confusion turned to anger, "are you cheating on mom?"

Sydney snorted, then held her hand up to her face to cover her laughter. Tim shot her a look, but still turned on me.

"Tim, I would never do that." I walked over and stood in front of him. From his position on the stairs, he was looking down on me, like some sort of judgmental angel. "This is more complicated than you think. It's kind of—"

"A secret?" Tim finished. "A secret from who?"

"From your mother. And your uncle Gale. And everyone else." Sydney said. I shot her a look, and she shook her head. "We may as well tell him the truth. We really should have planned better."

"What truth?" Tim turned from Sydney to me and back again. "I can keep a secret I swear." He followed up when we were silent. "Or I could just tell mom."

"Blackmail? This kid is a hustler." Sydney smirked.

"This is not funny." I said to her. "How can you think this is funny?" Tim was still waiting, and I knew I had to answer him sooner or later. "Ok. Fine. Tim, Sydney is an old friend of your mother and I."

"Wait," he narrowed his eyes, "you're that girl from the picture. The one who died. You don't look very dead to me."

"Thanks." Sydney said.

"She had to go away for reasons that you wouldn't understand. But they were good ones. And it really hurt your mother and your Uncle Gale when she died. It hurt me too, but last week I found out she was still alive. She has to stay here because of some things going on right now."

"But we can't tell mom? I don't get it. If they were such good friends, wouldn't she want to see Sydney?"

"Not when she finds out I lied." Sydney chimed in. So there it is kid. Take it or leave it."

Tim grinned. "I'll take it. As long as we get to hang out." He said eagerly.

"Tim—"

"Come on, dad. I'm sure Sydney's lonely, and I have the flu, so I can't go anywhere. Plus, she would've been my aunt, so I should really get to know her." Sometimes it amazed me at how quick Tim was on his feet. That he got from me.

"Yeah, come on dad. Aunt Sydney is bored out of her mind and could use someone to hang out with."

Now they were ganging up on me. I sighed and looked at Sydney. "Do not corrupt my son." I said.

"I make no promises." She answered.

Tim bolted down the rest of the stairs and stopped in front of her. "Do you play chess?" He asked.

Sydney rolled her eyes. "Please. I own at chess."

"I have an awesome set in my room." He said. He started to head back up the stairs, hacking out a cough through his smile. Sydney followed him, and I went back to the couch.

It was good for Tim to get to know her. I also knew that he was hurting for friends. Unlike Marley, Tim was a loner at school. He was very intelligent, and it set him apart from the other boys. He was also extremely shy, and it took a lot for him to open up to new people. But I had seen him look at Sydney. Like every other guy I had ever met, my son was in love at first sight. It was hard to not love Sydney Harper, but when for me she had to measure up to Katniss, and that was impossible. There would never be anyone as incredible as Katniss, so the rest of the world could have Sydney Harper. I have always known I was the luckiest one anyway.

My son ended up spending a lot more time with Sydney than I thought. He was home from school for the next three days, and the two of them spent all of that time together. Most of the time they were playing games, chess, checkers, strategy games. We would eat lunch together.

On the third morning, Tim headed in to the living room to take a nap, his illness still plaguing him. Sydney was helping me wash dishes.

"You know, your son is pretty amazing." She said, breaking the comfortable silence. "He must get that from his mother."

I flicked water at her. "No need to burn me, Harper."

"I wish I had seen them grow up. I wish I had been here." Sydney stopped washing. When I looked at her, there was a tear in her eye. "It was a mistake to leave, and I see that now. No matter how necessary it may have been, I never should have left my family behind."

"You can still change that. You can be in their lives now. The sooner you start fixing it the better."

"I'm not sure it can be fixed." She said, shutting off the water and heading into the living room.

Once Tim got back to school, it got harder to hide. He still wanted to see Sydney, but now I would have to make an excuse for Katniss. At dinner one night, Tim sat down at the old piano that had come with this house but never been used and started to play a rudimentary song.

"Since when has our son played piano?" Katniss said to me as she set dishes in the sink.

I turned the water on and started washing, trying to play dumb. "I think the house keeper taught him some. He's been helping me check on her while he's home sick."

"Are you sure that's safe?" Katniss' brow was knit. "We don't even know her. Some stranger is spending time with our son. I don't' know if I'm comfortable with that."

I forced myself to not laugh at the irony. If things had gone differently, it was very possible that Sydney would've been the kid's godmother. Now Katniss was getting suspicious of her.

"I'm sure it's ok. Tim's a smart kid. He would know if it wasn't safe. Besides, he's twelve not five. He can tell when something is wrong."

She frowned. "You trust this woman?"

I shrugged. "Yeah. I mean she hasn't done anything to make me think otherwise."

That was kind of a lie. I hadn't always trusted Sydney Harper, but she had proven herself to me. I saw the look Katniss was giving me, and it was killing me. Lying to her was the hardest thing I would ever have to do, but this wasn't my secret to tell, and I had to respect Sydney's wishes. So I just changed the subject and prayed that it would just go away.

Katniss' POV

Things had been strange for over a week. Peeta wasn't acting like himself, and it was throwing me off. Some things he did were suspicious, but I needed to trust him. I told myself that over and over again. He had never done anything to hurt me, so I should trust him, shouldn't I?

So why was he spending so much time at Haymitch's? Peeta was the most helpful man I had ever met, and I knew that was the reason he was over there. He was just helping the poor woman out because she was in a new place. I needed to calm myself down. Peeta was my husband, and he would never cheat on me.

I was in the pharmacy, browsing the aisles for a medicine Tim needed. He still wasn't one hundred percent better, and I wanted him to be ok for his birthday in just over a week. His cough was lingering, and it made me worry. It was amazing how becoming a parent could make you so paranoid.

When I walked to the front of the store, I saw Delly Cartwright in the checkout line, chatting on the phone with someone. As I approached her, she hung up, smiling at me and waving for me to come over.

She snapped her phone shut. "Hello, Katniss!" She gave me a hug, and I tried to smile back. Delly had been in love with my husband once. It was a hard thing to forget. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well. Tim has a cold, so I'm just picking some stuff up."

"Poor kid. Wish him well for me." She turned over her shoulder and glanced behind her. "So what do you think of Haymitch's nanny?" She whispered.

"The house keeper? I don't know. I've never met her."

"She's your neighbor. Tall, leggy, beautiful thing from what I hear. Hangs around your husband all the time and you've never met her?" Delly raised her eyebrows. "You're a better wife than me."

My stomach twisted, but I tried to ignore Delly's words. She liked to gossip was all.

"But I mean, Peeta is also the greatest man alive. I saw him shopping for that gift for you. All of those clothes just because you're an incredible woman. I wish my husband was that thoughtful."

"I'm sorry." I shook my head. "You must be confused. Peeta didn't buy me anything."

"Oh no." She put a hand over her mouth. "I must have ruined the surprise. O I'm so sorry, Katniss. I saw him buying clothes in town last week and he said they were for you. Please still act surprised for me."

The cashier called for next in line again and Delly left, apologizing again. My head was spinning. Peeta had bought me something to be nice. So why was I so suspicious?

When I found myself at home, rifling through drawers and closets, trying to find this present Peeta supposedly bought for me, I wondered when I had become the jealous wife. But every time I came up empty handed, I couldn't help the doubt creeping into my mind. After I had thoroughly searched our entire house, I sat down on my bed and put my head in my hands.

I decided the only way to work this out for myself would be to go see the housekeeper. I cursed my suspicious mind as I stood on the porch, hand wrapping on the wooden door. There was no answer. I yelled through the door, but there was still nothing. Anger and frustration rose to the surface and I banged harder.

"Hello?" I said. "Is anyone there?"

The lights were on, but no one came to the door. Supposedly the woman rarely left the house, so why was she avoiding me? I walked back to my house slowly, my stomach and my heart churning, Peeta would be home from the bakery soon, and the only thing I could do was wait.

So I sat on the couch and thought about all of the things that could go wrong. If Peeta was being unfaithful, it would shatter my entire world. If I was wrong and I accused him, it would be almost as bad. Breaking the trust barrier was huge, and I didn't want to do that with him. My mind went wild, thinking about our kids and our future and how a divorce would even happen. I had never wanted to be that family. Twelve was the age I lost my father. It was the worst year of my life, and I didn't want that to happen to Tim.

At least the kids were with my mother today. Sometimes they spent Saturdays with her so Peeta and I could run errands, or on days like today when he worked. What would she say about a divorce? What would she say about the way I was acting?

Finally, after I had stressed myself out so much that I felt like throwing up, I heard keys clicking in the door. I took a long, deep breath and steeled myself for the conversation I was about to have.

When Peeta walked through the door, he smiled at me, but I guess my concern was obvious, because his smile dropped almost immediately.

"What's wrong?" He asked, dropping his bag on the floor and walking closer to me.

I tried not to cry. Years of holding it back came in handy, and my voice managed to come out relatively normal. "You need to tell me what's going on. I feel so out of touch with you. You're always busy, always out, always at Haymitchs. Everywhere but here."

"Katniss…is this about the house keeper?"

"I ran into Delly Cartwright today." I said, crossing my arms. "She told me she saw you buying me a gift. Clothes. Sorry to ruin the surprise. Maybe you can just give them to me now?"

"I can't." He looked down at his feet. "Listen, it's hard to explain—"

"Are you having an affair?"

His head shot up and for a second it looked like he might pass out. "No!" He held his hands out and grabbed mine. "No. I would never do that to you. You know you're the only person I'll ever love. Why would you think that?"

"Something is going on!" I said, pulling my hands away. "I'm not stupid. I see it. If it's not an affair, then what is it."

Peeta's shoulders slacked, the energy leaving him. "I-I can't tell you." He whispered. "I'm sorry, but I—"

"You can't tell me?" I was yelling now. "Since when do we hide things from each other?"

"Kat, calm down."

"I won't calm down. Tell me what it is. What is so bad that you have to hide it from me?"

"It's more complicated than that." He pleaded. "Please, you have to trust me."

"Trust you? How am I supposed to do that? You're sneaking around, lying to me, bringing our son into it. We've never hid things from each other before. Why can't you just tell me this big secret."

"He can't tell you," I heard a voice from the door. It was so unreal, so eerie so familiar, that I didn't dare turn around. "Because it's not his secret to tell."

If I stayed facing Peeta, watching his eyes slump to the ground, watching a mixture of relief and pain cross his face, I wouldn't have to face whatever was behind me. Because it was impossible. Because somehow I already knew what was going to happen. I knew who would be there, and it couldn't be. Every muscle in my body screamed for me to stay where I was, but I turned around anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

Katniss' POV

When I opened my eyes, I found myself staring up, towards a ceiling. It took me about five seconds to figure out it was my mother's house. When I started to think about how I had gotten here, I shot up, but quickly felt hands on my shoulders.

"Katniss," my mother was sitting next to me on the couch, "you need to lay down."

"What? Why?" I reached up and rubbed my head, which was pounding. "I must have fallen asleep. I had the weirdest dream."

I saw Sydney's standing in my doorway, her hands in her pockets, her green eyes shimmering in the setting sun. Her voice sounded so clear in my head, so real. And for the first time she hadn't look like she did the last time I saw her, covered in dirt and blood. She looked clean, and she looked older.

"It wasn't a dream." A voice came from the kitchen doorway. "You fainted."

And there she was, standing so matter of factly in my mother's house, eating an apple with that same smirk on her face that I would know anywhere. It took me a moment, but I pushed my mom away and got to my feet. Sydney took a step back and held her hands up.

I put a hand on her shoulder, turning her slightly to try and justify that she wasn't actually here. "What was the first thing you ever said to me?" I asked.

"I've heard a lot about you." She answered. "Why?"

"The hallucinations never know the answer. Because I don't know it. Or I didn't."

I felt movement behind me and spun around. Peeta was standing on the stairs, looking warily between me and Sydney.

"This is it?" I said. "This is what you've been hiding from me?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you, and I didn't want to hurt you."

"Didn't want to hurt me? Then why did you lie? This isn't like 'oops I accidentally crashed the car.' This is like 'hey you're best friend is back from the dead and I just forgot to mention it.'"

"Don't blame him." Sydney said. "It's not his fault. I asked him not to tell you."

"Why?" I said. There was no stopping the tears now. "I thought of you like a sister, and you just wanted to get rid of me?"

"It's not like that." I could hear the pain in Sydney's voice, but it didn't matter. I had never felt this hurt. "I had to go. If I stayed, Snow would have been free, and there was no way I was going to let that happen."

"Then why not just tell us?"

"He would've questioned you. If no one knew about the deal, it would just go away. I thought it would be easier this way."

"Well you were wrong." I said, wiping a tear from my cheek. "And you shouldn't have come back."

I turned around to open the door, hoping to make a dramatic exit. Instead, when I pulled the handle open, I found myself face to face with Gale. Grace stood behind him, holding a casserole dish. Both of them were smiling, but when they saw me, their smiles dropped.

"Are we early?" Gale asked.

"O no." I heard my mother say from behind me. "I absolutely forgot about dinner." She put a hand on my shoulder and gave them a weak smile. "I saw Grace at the grocery today and invited them over."

"Is it a bad time?" Gale was trying to get past me. Suddenly, my protective instincts kicked in.

"There's never going to be a good one." I glanced over my shoulder.

Sydney had stood straight up, her body rigid. Her skin was pale, and she looked like she might be sick. She shook her head at me, then gave Peeta a pleading look. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door wider and stepped aside to let Gale in.

He took two steps into the living room and froze. I had never seen someone's facial expressions change so much so quickly. At first he was oblivious. Then he noticed Sydney, and he looked confused. Then he seemed to realize what he was seeing, and he was stunned. His jaw was slacked, and his eyes were raking Sydney up and down.

She shuffled her feet and shifted her weight. I had never seen Sydney Harper nervous, and it would have made me laugh under different circumstances. Now I just felt bad for them. Finally, Gale caught Sydney's eye, and they just stared at each other, their gaze unblinking and unmoving. Twelve years of sadness, longing, and anger hung between them, and no one said a word.

Gale finally took a few steps forward, and I saw him swallow hard. He put a hand up to the side of Sydney's face and cupped her cheek, never breaking eye contact.

"This can't be happening." He whispered. "This isn't real."

Then she reached up and took his hand. He flinched, like his body had been shocked by some invisible electric wire. Sydney didn't need to say anything. I expected Gale to explode with anger. Part of me even wanted him to. I wanted him to yell at Sydney, to ask her why she had left, and why she hadn't told them she was disappearing. To ask her why people always disappeared, and why she had to be one of him. Instead, he did the last thing I expected. He threw his arms around her and pulled her into him, burying his head in her neck.

Sydney seemed just as surprised as I was. At first she just held her arms awkwardly away from his back. Then once she realized he wasn't trying to strangle her, she hugged him back.

"That's it?" I said. "You're just going to hug her?"

Gale pulled away, tearing his eyes away from Sydney to look at me. "Yeah." He said. "Yeah, I am."

"I promise I can explain." She said.

"You don't have to." He answered. "It doesn't matter."

"It does matter." Sydney stepped away from him. "You all deserve it, and I'm going to try as hard as I can to make you understand."

"Excuse me." For the first time I remembered Grace was there. "Who are you?"

Sydney turned on her, and I saw her switch from apologetic friend to territorial alpha female with one smirk. I decided to step in, unable to take this anymore.

"This is Sydney Harper, former girlfriend of Gale, former friend of ours, who abandoned us for no reason and left us to morn her while she got to go on living her life." I turned to Peeta, then Gale, then my mother. "How can you possibly be ok with this?"

It felt like I was back with the squad on that first day, wondering how they could trust this stranger when I couldn't bring myself to even speak to her. Everyone was standing against me, and for the first time in a long time, I felt alone.

"Katniss—" Sydney took a step towards me, but I just shook my head, too stunned to say anything. Without another word, I stepped out the door and ran as quickly as I could back to my house.

Sydney's POV

When the door shut behind Katniss, we all just stood there for a moment, gathering our bearings and trying to figure out where to go from here. Mrs. Everdeen was the first one to step into motion, taking the casserole dish from Grace's hands. Then she turned to Peeta, who already had one foot out the door.

"Just make her understand." She said. "My daughter is unbelievably stubborn, but you get to her. So get to her."

With that, Peeta nodded and wished us well, nodding at me and taking off after his wife. I let out a sigh and collapsed against the back wall.

"Well that went exactly as I thought it would." I said, tousling my hair.

I had to force myself not to look at Gale. To say he had aged well was an understatement. He was just as handsome as the day I had last seen him. The same grey eyes, easy smile, and incredibly ripped body. Unfortunately his wife was standing right next to him, looking equal parts pissed and terrified.

This wasn't how I wanted to start out my return to their lives. If I played nice with this woman, maybe it would make things easier.

"So what's for dinner?" I asked, trying to break the tension. Gale was still staring at me like he thought I might disappear at any moment.

"Lasagna." Grace answered tersly.

The door opened again, and this time Prim walked in, wiping her shoes on the mat. When she saw me, she got the same look as anyone else, only her surprise lasted for less time. She walked straight over and hugged me.

"Expecting me?" I asked when she pulled back.

Prim shrugged. She was so much older than the last time I had seen her. Everyone was, but in my mind Prim had always been a little girl. Now she was a woman, the spitting image of her mother.

"I figured something like this would happen." She said.

"How?" I asked.

"You're Sydney Harper. Like you would actually just die." She looked at Gale, who was still staring at me. Then she took Grace's hand and led her into the kitchen. "Let's go fix the food. I think he's in good hands."

Grace gave us one more nervous look. To say she was already threatened wasn't an exaggeration. I could tell she hated leaving him here alone with me, and for some awful reason that thought made me smile a little.

And then we were alone. Gale finally looked away, clearing his throat and shuffling his feet. He ran a hand through his hair and shifted his shirt.

"So…" I said. "How have you been?"

He looked up at me, this time his eyes were sad. "Awful. When you left, it was like every happy feeling had been sucked out of me. I never thought I would be able to live again. This year I thought I had finally moved on. The weight on my chest felt lifted."

"And now?"

"Now that you're here, alive and this close to me, I realized that I was wrong. I wasn't living. This is what it feels like to be alive Sydney, and I have missed it so much."

He wrapped his arms around me again, this time pulling my head into his chest. I rested it there, the comfort and ease of being with Gale returning like I had never left. He rested his chin on the top of my head.

"You left to save us." He said. "It took me a long time to come to terms with that. But I get it." He stroked my hair. "I get it."

Then he pulled away, the look in his eyes suddenly fierce. "Just promise me something."

"Anything." I found myself whispering, caught up in his gaze.

"Promise that you will never leave again."

I nodded. "Never again." I whispered.

I remembered the woman in the other room and pulled away from him, smiling and kissing him on the cheek. "I think your wife is waiting for you." I said.

He walked into the kitchen, glancing back one more time at me. I decided to get some fresh air and stepped onto the porch. I could see the light on in Katniss and Peeta's house, and I leaned up against the railing, taking in everything that had just happened. Despite the fact that she hated me, it felt good to see Katniss again. And Gale. The feelings I had for him just bubbled to the surface right away, like it was nothing. But he was married, and that was a boundary I couldn't cross.

"Aunt Sydney." I heard a small voice and turned to find Tim standing in the door. "I think dinner is ready."

"Thanks, kid." I said, ruffling his hair.

"Are you and my mom fighting?"

"Your mother is not very happy with me right now." I said honestly. "And I can't say I blame her."

"Does that mean we won't get to hang out?"

"Psht. Of course not. I have to consistently kick your butt at checkers or you'll get too cocky." He smiled. "Listen, Tim, what's happening between your mom and me won't affect you. No matter how she feels about me, you need to know that I will always be here for you. I missed the first twelve years of your life, and I have a lot of catching up to do, but I plan on doing it."

I had resolved to stay a while ago, actually. It was just a matter of gathering the courage to confront Katniss and Gale. Now that that was done, I had no reason to go back. It was going to be hard, but I was sick of running away. That wasn't who I was. It was time to return to the Sydney Harper of old.

Tim hugged me. "I'm glad you're staying, Aunt Sydney."

"Me too, kid." I said into his hair. "Me too."


	5. Chapter 5

Sydney's POV

The best thing about finally revealing myself to everyone was that I got to run again. The feeling of my breath struggling to enter my lungs, the wind blowing my hair back, the sweat sticking my shirt to my body, was something that I had missed. Now that my feet were pounding against the dirt path again, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time: free.

I had kept up my running habit over the years, but usually it was to forget about the guilt that I felt or the pain I was in. Now it was because I could step out into the fresh air and just be completely myself for the first time in twelve years. There was no feeling that even came close to this.

Just as I was about to leave on my afternoon run, I spotted Tim sitting on his porch, playing absentmindedly with a chess set. I walked up the steps and sat across from him, leaning my elbows against the table.

"Whatsup kid?" I asked. He shrugged his shoulders, but I could see in his face that something was wrong. "Did something happen?"

He shook his head. There was some way to get it out of him, and I would figure it out. So I took the pieces and set them up again, moving a pawn forward two spaces to start the game. Tim moved back, more silent than I had ever seen him. Usually he would tell me about school or talk about something that he had read or seen, but today he was quiet, the only sound between us the scraping of the pieces across the board.

"I'll tell you what, I know something's bothering you. So if I beat you, you tell me."

Tim said nothing, just moved a piece forward again. I guess the challenge was accepted, so I moved my focus to the game. We played for about half an hour. For a twelve year old, Tim was almost impossible to beat, but as I moved my final piece into place, he knew it was over. He pushed his chair back and flipped the chess board off the table, the pieces scattering everywhere.

Clearly this was more complicated than I had originally thought. Kids had never been my specialty, but this kid was different. I identified with him in a weird way, and the last thing I wanted was for him to feel like this. He got up from the table and sat down on the porch steps, crossing his arms and putting his head down.

I got up after and followed him, sitting down delicately on the step beside him. "Listen, Tim, I'm not actually going to force you to talk about it. But sometimes it helps."

"Talking won't do anything. It hasn't so far."

"Is something happening at school?"

"It's just not fair." Tim said. "Those kids can just beat me up like it's nothing, and I can't do anything about it."

"Kids are beating you up?"

"They're just pushing me into lockers, taking my stuff, throwing stuff at me. No one's actually hit me."

"That doesn't matter. It's still not right." I said. "Have you told your parents?"

He laughed. "No. I already know what they would say. 'Be the bigger person. You're better than them Tim.' Or maybe 'tell a teacher, then they'll stop. You tell or I will.' But everyone knows that doesn't make it stop. It just makes me more of an outcast. There's nothing I can do. Words won't stop them."

"So don't use words." Maybe this wasn't he best advice, but I was angry. Tim didn't deserve this, because he was better than all of those kids. "Sometimes you have to stick up for yourself Tim. If you get in trouble, it was worth it. You have to show them that they can't mess with you. Teachers and parents can't fight battles like this for you. You have to stand up for yourself, or they'll never respect you."

I thought that if anyone would understand that, it would be Katniss and Peeta. But I could also see them telling their son that violence wasn't the answer. I just disagreed and knew that peaceful negotiation didn't work with kids. As someone who actually had to beat someone up to stop being picked on, I knew what Tim was going through.

"I don't want to get in trouble."

"Sometimes you have to forget the rules. It's not going to be the end of the world."

"I don't even know how to fight. And I'm weak." He held up his arms to drive home his point.

"You are the son of two of the bravest people I've ever known. Your parents fought for their lives not once, but twice, and lived to tell the tale. They were never the biggest or strongest or best fighters, but they were smart, and they knew there was no other option. So they did what needed to be done."

Finally, Tim smiled. He threw his arms around my neck and whispered a thank you. Then the front door to their house opened.

"Tim, let's go. I think you've got work to do."

He looked up at his mother, then back at me. "So do what I need to do?" He asked.

"Always." I answered. He held out a fist and I bumped it, then he bounded up the stairs and slipped past his mother into the house.

I stood up and brushed the dirt off the back of my legs. Katniss and I just stared at each other for a while. It had been a week, and she hadn't said a word to me. I couldn't say I was surprised, but that didn't make it hurt any less. We had been so close once, and that was the thing I wanted back more than anything.

"So are we ever going to talk about this?" I asked.

Her stony expression suggested that there was nothing to talk about. I rolled my eyes and started to walk away.

"How did you do it?" She asked. "Escape the bomb I mean."

"There was a shelter." I said. "We set the bomb up right below the capitol building. There was an impenetrable bomb shelter deep below because it was my father's residence. Haymitch was the one who found out about it. I barely made it before the bomb exploded."

"So all the stuff about there not being a timer…?"

"That was a lie." I shuffled my feet. "Because I had to get you to leave, or there was no way I could disappear."

Katniss clenched her jaw. I could see the muscles tighten beneath her tan skin. I wanted to apologize again, but it was no use. Nothing I could say would make a difference now. She had to forgive me on her own terms, and pushing her wouldn't help me.

"You know I blamed myself. For years the only thing I could think was that I shouldn't have left you down there. That if I was a true friend I would have refused to let you set off that bomb. That it wasn't worth your life."

"I did it for Panem. It was worth my life."

"Not for me." Katniss said, stepping back into her house and closing the door.

I stood rooted in place for a few minutes, trying to let the anger pass over me. This wasn't my fault, and I honestly thought I was doing the right thing. So why the hell was she so upset with me? Wouldn't she have done the same thing in my position?

I decided not to run that afternoon. The next morning I set off early, hoping it would take my mind off the confrontation that had kept me from sleeping. Even when I got into my rhythm I couldn't forget. Now that I was so close to them, the guilt wasn't just going to go away. It was going to take a lot more than apologies to win Katniss' friendship back, and I knew that now.

I was so focused, my mind anywhere but on the road in front of me, that I almost ran someone over on my way back to the Village from town. When I bumped into him, I turned to apologize profusely only to find myself face to face with Gale.

"Hey." I said, trying to dispel the awkwardness. We hadn't talked much in the past week either, presumably because of Grace's attitude towards me, which was anything but friendly.

Now a broad smile crossed over his face. "Hey. Morning run?" He asked.

I raised my eyebrows. "Yeah?" I laughed. "How did you know?"

This time it was his turn to blush. "You run by my house every day." He pointed across town. "I see you sometimes and just assumed."

"Mmhmm." I didn't want to push him, but I smiled. "Well I'm just about to head back. So maybe I'll see you around?"

"I'll go with you." He said. "I was about to head to Katniss and Peeta's anyway."

"Well you were heading the wrong way."

"Uh—" He looked around for an excuse, "I was going to go somewhere first, but we may as well walk together. Besides, I have to catch Katniss before she goes to work."

"Right." I said. "I'm not complaining. Let's go."

So we walked together. It was awkward at first, but eventually Gale and I fell somewhat back into our old selves. He told me about his job, working in the national security branch of the government. He seemed to like it, talking animatedly about all of his experiences there. We avoided certain subjects; Grace, my death, our past. Mostly we caught up on things we had missed, but there was a tension in the air that couldn't be ignored. Eventually we would have to discuss real things, but now wasn't the time.

Now I was just enjoying my time with him. I forgot how Gale could make me laugh. To other people he may be this super serious rebel, but around me he was always cracking one joke or another. There wasn't a moment when I was around him that I wasn't smiling, and that thought scared me. Eventually I would figure that out, but as we walked, I knew that everything was going to be ok.

Katniss' POV

Everyone else was forgiving Sydney easily enough. Peeta still visited her house, my son seemed taken with her, and my mother and sister frequently had her over to their house. I was the only one who seemed to have any sense, realizing that what she had done to us wasn't fair.

I looked out the window as I was about to leave and saw Sydney walking up the street with Gale. Sighing, I grabbed my bag and opened the door. Gale was the worst of them all. He was married, but he acted like a single guy with her. I could see them laughing from this far away. As the former biggest champion of the Gale/Sydney romance, I had the right to say that it shouldn't happen again.

Gale saw me and his smile dropped slightly. Sydney stepped away from him and said goodbye, heading back to her house without looking at me. I had been harsh to her yesterday. Now she was avoiding me. Part of me thought that was what I had been going for, but another part long for the intimacy we had once had. That wasn't going to happen right now. Right now I was angry with her.

"Hey Katniss." Gale said when Sydney had walked away. "I was hoping to catch you."

"What are you doing, Gale?" I asked.

"Well I was about to ask if you could help me access the capitol building's security records."

"You know that's not what I mean."

"I'm not doing anything wrong. We were just walking together. I ran into her outside of town."

I knew Sydney and Gale. It was never just talking. There was always this strange sexual tension in the air, like they were seconds from ripping each other's clothes off. It used to make me feel like I was always interrupting some intimate moment when I was in their presence.

"Like when you checked her out as she walked away?" I said.

"I was just-I mean she's-I didn't do anything wrong." He said again.

"You're married. That's a commitment. It means something to Grace, and it should mean something to you. Sydney's coming back doesn't change that."

Gale rolled his eyes. The guilt was gone, now he was angry. We had been friends for years, and I could always tell when he was going into Gale-the-warrior mode. He clenched his fist, his voice defensive when he spoke.

"Of course it does. It changes everything. I don't know why you keep denying that. You might be angry with her, but I'm not. I spent twelve years wishing for this moment, and I'm not going to let it slip away now that it's actually happening."

"She hurt you. She hurt us."

"It wasn't about us. Can't you see that?"

Peeta had been feeding me the same mantra. He was Sydney's biggest advocate, constantly trying to tell me how she never meant to hurt us and how bad she felt. But it didn't really matter to me. I was still hurt, and the reasons didn't matter right now.

"Look, I didn't cheat on Grace. But I'm not going to sit here and tell you that I felt nothing when I saw Sydney. I repressed the feelings because she wasn't here, she was dying and feeling what I felt had no point."

"It still doesn't have a point. Grace is a great person—"

"Yeah, she is. She's sweet and smart and she makes me happy."

"So what's the issue?"

"She's not Sydney. Imagine this. Peeta died when we were younger, and you grieved for years. Eventually you and I got married because we made each other happy, and I could deal with your feelings for him because he was dead, and there was no one to compete with. We would be complacent, happy even, but you would always love him, no matter how much you tried to force yourself to feel that same passionate spark around me. When you give your heart away, it stays away."

"You shouldn't have married her then."

Gale looked at his shoes. "If I had known about this," he pointed vaguely to Haymitch's house, "I wouldn't have."

He walked away without another word, his hands jammed in his pockets and his head down. He looked like a little kid again. All I could see was his face when I told him about Sydney, or when we were getting our letters, or when he was yelling at me to just let him die. He was right. The feelings he had for Sydney weren't the same as the ones he had for Grace. Just like the feelings I had for him weren't the same as the ones I had for Peeta.

The thought made my stomach turn. Grace didn't deserve to get hurt by all of this, but I could see it coming. It was technically none of my business, and I decided to stay out of it. Whatever Gale was going to do, he would be the one to live with it.

I didn't think my day could get any worse until I got home from work to find Tim sitting on the couch, holding an ice pack up to his face and casually watching TV. Setting my bag down on the floor I knelt down in front of him and pulled his hand away. A giant purple and blue bruise covered his left eye, and his nose looked swollen. A small bandage was placed over his upper cheek.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Our son got into a fight." Peeta walked into the room from the kitchen with a glass of water and another ice pack.

"A fight?" My husband nodded. "How? Why?"

Peeta looked at our son. "Care to explain to your mother what happened?"

"Those kids had it coming!" He sat up on the couch. "Mom, they've been picking on me for years, pushing me into lockers, spitting on me, calling me insulting names. I couldn't take it any more."

"Why didn't you tell us what was going on?"

"So you could tell me to go to a teacher, or try to talk it out?" He spat. "I tried both of those things, and neither one worked. Sometimes you have to stand up for yourself, no matter what the consequences are."

"Who gave you the idea that fighting was the way to go?"

Tim shifted in his seat, then looked up at his dad.. "N-no one. I just thought it was the right thing to do."

I turned to Peeta. "You did not tell our son to fight."

He held up his hands. "Never. But he did get the idea from someone."

"It wasn't dad." Tim whispered. "But it worked! Those guys are going to leave me alone. People were talking, they aren't going to mess with me anymore."

"Who told you to go after them?"

"I didn't go after them!" He said, frustrated. "They came at me. This time I defended myself. They deserved it!"

Just then the door opened, and Sydney walked in.

"You rang?" She said to Peeta.

"Of course." I muttered to myself. I could hear the words coming out of Sydney's mouth just as Tim had said them. "Did you tell my son to get into a fight?"

Sydney walked in, closing the door behind her. When she looked at Tim, she inhaled sharply through her teeth. "I should've reminded him to block. Cover your face, kid." She said.

"Remind him to block? You shouldn't have told him to fight in the first place!"

She rolled her eyes at me. "Calm down." She turned back to Tim. "They were picking on you?" She asked. He nodded. "So you didn't start it?" He nodded again. She held out a fist and he bumped it. "Good for you kid. What does the other guy look like?"

Tim grinned. "It was three guys, and they were so surprised that they all landed on the floor."

Sydney smiled back at him. I had to admit I was a little bit proud of my son, but I covered it up and turned to Sydney. "This is not funny."

"He was defending himself. You can't let them see your weakness. Those guys looked at your son like a piece of meat." She glanced back at Peeta, "Show them your strength and they'll stop sniffing you. Advice straight from your mouth from what I understand."

"That's not-" I started, "That was different."

"How?" Sydney stood up. "There are no more Hunger Games, but that doesn't mean there aren't still people who think they are better than everyone else. If you don't stand up for what you believe in, you don't really believe in anything. You of all people should understand that."

When Sydney got up and walked away, I stayed where I was. I knew she was right, and wondered when I had become the way that I was.


End file.
